I think I read this in Oprah magazine. I've been catching up on a year's worth. I sit at the beach and plop a big glossy on my lap, frequently distracted by seagulls and clouds. Occasionally and fortuitously loons.
Step one. Go out to the garden and pick kale. Notice the morning glories twining around the cedar tree. Admire the brown-eyed susans, a procession of bright yellow. Marvel at the neon zinnias. Look at the green beans, *groan* they need to be picked again. Haven't eaten the last batch and gave some to neighbors. Remember to pick kale.
I picked the tops off of four sturdy plants. Three blue and a green. I planted Blue Russian and curly green.
Back inside, get 2 pans going. One for pasta, one for kale. You know how to cook pasta. Do that. The other- splop liberal olive oil into cast iron skillet. Add chopped garlic (3 sections) and walnuts (a handful).
Pour yourself a glass of chardonnay. It's summer, it's hot, and this is going to be arduous.
Wash the kale. Add red pepper flakes to the skillet. You know how I cut kale? With my kitchen scissors: so easy. I cut it in thin strips, right over the sizzling skillet. I add a splash of fresh spring water. Stir.
That cutting was strenuous, you might need another glass of wine. I prefer a fine boxed wine. Boca is good: no BPA in the lining, so they say.
Cook the pasta to al dente. Drain and add to skillet. Might need another splash of water at this point, or what the hey, a splash of chardonnay. Stir. Turn to low and top with freshly grated parmesan cheese. I say freshly grated because I tend to abuse parmesan cheese and if I have to pay $4.00 for a tub of the fresh, I use less. Give me a family-sized can of Kraft's, and well, it's a sad story. Is there a support group out there? My name is Meredith and I abuse parmesan cheese.
Back to the recipe. Yeah, it's good to go. Did you work all day, on a Saturday? School is starting and you realize there's no syllabus for your class? No test bank, no lesson plans, and you haven't read the textbook. So you worked all day? Awww, no beach. Wait, then you came home and mowed the lawn? Didn't eat since breakfast? Oh dear, pour yourself one more glass of wine. Turn on public radio, pat the dog, and chill. Supper can wait. It's there and ready, so easy, so delish.
Step one. Go out to the garden and pick kale. Notice the morning glories twining around the cedar tree. Admire the brown-eyed susans, a procession of bright yellow. Marvel at the neon zinnias. Look at the green beans, *groan* they need to be picked again. Haven't eaten the last batch and gave some to neighbors. Remember to pick kale.
I picked the tops off of four sturdy plants. Three blue and a green. I planted Blue Russian and curly green.
Back inside, get 2 pans going. One for pasta, one for kale. You know how to cook pasta. Do that. The other- splop liberal olive oil into cast iron skillet. Add chopped garlic (3 sections) and walnuts (a handful).
Pour yourself a glass of chardonnay. It's summer, it's hot, and this is going to be arduous.
Wash the kale. Add red pepper flakes to the skillet. You know how I cut kale? With my kitchen scissors: so easy. I cut it in thin strips, right over the sizzling skillet. I add a splash of fresh spring water. Stir.
That cutting was strenuous, you might need another glass of wine. I prefer a fine boxed wine. Boca is good: no BPA in the lining, so they say.
Cook the pasta to al dente. Drain and add to skillet. Might need another splash of water at this point, or what the hey, a splash of chardonnay. Stir. Turn to low and top with freshly grated parmesan cheese. I say freshly grated because I tend to abuse parmesan cheese and if I have to pay $4.00 for a tub of the fresh, I use less. Give me a family-sized can of Kraft's, and well, it's a sad story. Is there a support group out there? My name is Meredith and I abuse parmesan cheese.
Back to the recipe. Yeah, it's good to go. Did you work all day, on a Saturday? School is starting and you realize there's no syllabus for your class? No test bank, no lesson plans, and you haven't read the textbook. So you worked all day? Awww, no beach. Wait, then you came home and mowed the lawn? Didn't eat since breakfast? Oh dear, pour yourself one more glass of wine. Turn on public radio, pat the dog, and chill. Supper can wait. It's there and ready, so easy, so delish.
